A Tragic Halloween
by Gonrod
Summary: Halloween special! 1 day late. MAY be scary. Read at own risk.


Authors Note: Halloween special (yes, its late)! Sorry for not posting anything new, I was… involved in other stuff (mainly geography projects, chemistry practical's, the like.) Anyway, my sincere thanks to Crappishh, who reminded me about Halloween. IMPORTANT: this takes place when the haunted house has never been explored, when everyone thought it was full of indestructible ghosts.

_**Chapter 1: A Tragic Halloween**_

"This is so boring…." Said the level 49 Hunter, _SwiftWind_, as he shot to death another one of the countless slimes that inhabited the wilderness around new leaf city.

"What else can we do, apart from train?" replied the fighter training next to him, also level 49, named _Burningsoul._

Just then, in a shower of blue sparks, both of them leveled up to 50.

"Cool!" the fighter exclaimed.

"Yes, now I can finally use that Olympus!" the hunter also said.

"Say… today's Halloween, isn't it?" said the fighter.

"So? What about it?" The hunter shot back.

"Well I have a feeling that we're too old this year to go around in a costume screaming for candy so…how about a dare?"

"What dare?"

"Well lets see… I dare you to… stay in the haunted house for one night!"

"Are you out of your effing mind?!"

"Scared?" The fighter taunted.

"No, just…thinking it through. What's the prize anyway?"

"Eh lets see…" muttered the fighter, as he slashed another slime into half, plucked something out of the remains of it, and holding up the item dropped, said,

"This?"

SwiftWind'seyes went wide. What the fighter was holding was a blue lined Kinset, the armor he had always dreamed of (and had just become capable of) wearing. And now, because of a lapse in concentration, of stopping to take a rest and chat with him for awhile, he was deprived of it. If he had thought about it, as he did later, he would have realized that taking up this dare simply for the armor was a bad idea. However, now, in haste and greed, he said, "I'm in."

10 Hours later…

Time: 11.55 pm 

Date: 31/10/08

"Are you sure you want to be dropped off here? I could bring you back to the city now you know, lad. If you wanna back out, that is." Said the taxi driver as he dropped SwiftWind off at the steps of the haunted house.

"No thanks, I've got abit of unfinished business here."

"Suit yourself then."

As the taxi driver drove off in a cloud of dust, SwiftWind turned around, facing the great, looming gates of the haunted house.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all…_ However, the thought of the Blue Lined Kismet and the additional bonus of seeing the look on BurningSoul's face drove him on.

The gates creaked mournfully as they were pushed open, probably for the first time in many centuries.

_Whoa…this place is huge._ SwiftWind thought to himself as he entered the foyer. There was something spooky, yet, strangely sad about the abandoned foyer, it could have been viewed as a happy place once, in the past.

Just then, the bowman noticed a flicker of movement coming from the left. He turned, and beheld a small girl, of roughly 0.5m tall, walking slowly down the stairs, one step at a time, with a small smile on her face. But on closer examination, as the girl continued her slow descent, there was something wrong with her, her movements seemed jerky, almost mechanical, her smile, was too bland, too expressionless, too unnerving. It was almost as if she was a…robot. In her hands, she carried a box.

Swiftwind, unnerved by this girl, who was proceeding closer, still attempted to make first contact.

"Hello?" he tentatively called out. However, it was too soft to have been caught by even the most dexterous bowmaster. Yet, the girl abruptly seemed to focus on him, and continued in his direction.

"Are you okay?" he tried again. However, he received no answer, save a small quickening in the girls pace. And yet, throughout all of this, the girl still had the eerie smile on her face.

Just then, SwiftWind remembered one of his earlier lessons, taught to him by his hermit father.

"_Not everything is as it seems son… some monsters take on different forms to deceive you, others, which seem innocent, can turn on you in a blink of a eye."_

"_What do you mean, dad?" asked the 5 year old boy._

"_You'll see…when you get older."_

Deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry, he whipped out his Olympus, and roared,

"Double shot!"

The twin arrows flew forward, their flight enhanced by his mana. They impacted against the girl and the box she was carrying, one arrow blowing off half her small body, the other, impaling itself in the box she held, sending it flying back, ricocheting off the girls face, and landing at SwiftWinds feet. However, there was not even a single drop of blood, something that should have came out of the girl's body if she was human. Te girl took 3 more steps forward, and SwiftWind, shocked by the fact that despite having half her body blown off, her face still retained that sinister smile, took 3 involuntary steps back.

In that instant, several facts formed in the bowman's rattled, but still lightning fast mind.

No blood, yet of human form, it was a monster.

To be precise, a doll.

And if that was a doll, then what was the box that she carried?

"Final Attack!"

The golden bolt shot through the air, faster than ever, and impaled itself in the dolls body, exploding, sending bits of rubber and cloth and a dark fluid into the air. SwiftWind caught a whiff of he fluid, and immediately gagged.

_Dark Mana…_

SwiftWinds senses then suddenly alerted him to a impending attack, _directly beneath him!_

From the box sprang a giant clowns head, with a set of extremely sharp teeth, on a spring, intent on tearing the bowman into pieces.

However, Swift Wind was already moving, and put 2 double shots and 3 arrow blows into the clown…thing.

His senses screaming a warning of multiple shuffling footsteps, SwiftWind turned one whole round, and beheld the frightening scene.

Dozens of doors were opening… And from them came many, many dolls, each identical to the first, and boxes appeared on the ground, as if by magic.

_Oh…shit._

Resigning himself to a fight, he began to activate all his artes.

"Soul Arrow…Focus…"

The horde came, with slow shuffling steps. Each member could take massive amount of damage without breaking stride, and from their hands, 3-inch claws, razor sharp and needle thin, designed for one purpose, to slash through armor and flesh like it was tissue paper, extended. Should a victim get hit, they would be torn to shreds.

Putting his back to the wall, he began firing as soon as they came into range.

"Arrow bomb! Double shot! Final attack!"

The power of the Olympus, and the hunters red arrows, transmuted to soul arrows, were too much for the dolls. The first strike literally blew most of them to shreds, the second killed 2 survivors, and the third impacted itself in the remains of the first wave, and blew them all to kingdom come.

However, although the hunter had the advantage of skill, dexterity, and a sharp set of senses, the enemy had plenty of monsters to throw at him, and did not hesitate to do so. After an hour of relentless fighting, SwiftWind began to feel the first stages of battle fatigue. The enemy, on the other hand, looked as numerous as they had before, if not more so. Realizing that his position would be overrun sooner or later, he devised a new tactic.

He charged.

"Power Knockback!" The bow, augmented with magic strength, slammed into a doll, and sent it flying back into its comrades. Then, with abit of space to work with, the hunter pointed his bow at the floor, jumped up, and shouted,

"Arrow bomb!"

The resulting explosion propelled him upwards, toward the second level, along with blowing another dozen dolls to hell. As he flew up, a scrap of paper flew up, and he plucked it out of the air unerringly. It read, "Sophilia".

It was the last words he ever saw.

He continued fighting…fighting…fighting…until he had no more strength. As he fell, he saw the smiling visage of a doll, above him. Determined not to die like that he weakly raised his bow, and shot it with the last vestiges of his strength and mana. And above him…was a figure cloaked in black, hovering around the ceiling.

In his grip, was a young girl, of the exact same build of the dolls, right down to the smallest detail.

_Don't tell me…that this man is actually creating these dolls…from this girls mana? But that's impossible! No mana source is that large!_

It was a mystery that would eventually be solved, but not by him…

For then, a doll came over, and blocked his field of vision.

The last thing he saw was the smiling face of the doll, before the claws tore him into half.


End file.
